The Wrestler

I seek neither sympathy nor pity. I am simply trying to be honest.

The path I have chosen for my life has not been all bad. Perhaps from where I began, it was the best I could have done. Perhaps.

But I do not believe that for one moment. I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to create some kind of product - a piece of writing, a painting, a sculpture, a song - something that would resonate with people. Not popular, but meaningful. Not glory, but remembrance. But instead I chose a safer path.

I did some good things. I helped some people. I tried to be - generally - a good man (I can think of at least two women who challenge that point, and they are probably right). But I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to create.

Yeah, I know, I can “still” do it . . . only, not really. Had I begun this journey on the artistic path things may have been different. If I may borrow from Warren Zevon, “these wheels keep turning, but they’re running out of steam.”

I seek neither sympathy nor pity. I am simply trying to be honest.

Between late May and early July 2008, Bruce Springsteen wrote the song “The Wrestler.” The song was prompted by a heartfelt letter from longtime friend, actor Mickey Rourke detailing the emotional parallels of the movie he was making and his life.

Have you ever seen a one-trick pony in the field, so happy and free?

If you’ve ever seen a one-trick pony, then you’ve seen me

Have you ever seen a one-legged dog making its way down the street?

If you’ve ever seen a one-legged dog, then you’ve seen me

Then you’ve seen me

I come and stand at every door

Then you’ve seen me

I always leave with less than I had before

Then you’ve seen me

Bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor

Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?

Tell me can you ask for anything more?

Have you ever seen a scarecrow filled with nothing but dust and weeds?

If you’ve ever seen that scarecrow, then you’ve seen me

Have you ever seen a one-armed man punching at nothing but the breeze?

If you’ve ever seen a one-armed man, then you’ve seen me

Then you’ve seen me

I come and stand at every door

Then you’ve seen me

I always leave with less than I had before

Then you’ve seen me

Bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor

Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?

Tell me can you ask for anything more?

These things that have comforted me I drive away

This place that is my home I cannot stay

My only faith’s in the broken bones and bruises I display

Have you ever seen a one-legged man trying to dance his way free?

If you’ve ever seen a one-legged man, then you’ve seen me

“Have you ever seen a one-armed man punching at nothing but the breeze?” Nothing better captures the futility of my mediocre existence. “These things that have comforted me I drive away.” Indeed, I have.